


not that i’m arguing or anything

by amorremanet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baker Shiro (Voltron), Chubby Shiro (Voltron), Established Relationship, Feeding, Fluff and Kink, Grad Student Keith (Voltron), Idiots in Love, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Public Display of Affection, Rating May Change, Sheith could behave but they choose not to, Shiro (Voltron) is six-foot-four and massively thick, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-22 08:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21072788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: The Black and Gold Bakery has a seasonal rush on the horizon, which means that Shiro ends up testing new recipes and then filling several sizable orders of pumpkin spice this and Halloween-themed that. Excited as Shiro is about this prospect, he’s definitely gained weight since he and Hunk first opened Black and Gold, which probably means he should go back on a diet, right?Keith loves his boyfriend in all ways, no matter what Shiro weighs or looks like, and ultimately, he’s happy as long as Shiro’s happy. Selfishly, though, Keith wishes that Shiro would let the diet go already. Yes, Shiro’s abs were gorgeous and will be if he wants to get them back—but there’s something so much nicer about his increasingly pudgy stomach.





	not that i’m arguing or anything

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to have this done and posted yesterday, for Oscar Wilde’s 165th birthday because it’s completely self-indulgent and 5,000% gay, which is pretty much my literary bae’s Brand (and, per Josh Keaton, Shiro is the same height as Oscar Wilde was IRL)—but real life and the story itself had other ideas.
> 
> So, instead, what I intended to be scenes in a one-shot have been split into chapters of a fic, and I’m posting the first one today <strike>(and possibly the second, later)</strike>, for my dead grandmother’s birthday, because she was awful, and homophobic, and pretty much all of this would offend and scandalize her beyond belief, even though it’s inoffensive cuteness about Sheith being so in love that it’s kind of painful and Keith’s “inability” to keep his hands to himself (read: conscious decision not to do that).
> 
> —oh, there are some implied/referenced background ships, too: Adam/Ryou (Adashi never dated; Adam is engaged to Shiro’s brother); Hunk/James/Ryan; Allura/Ezor/Zethrid (because I can’t date Zezor and I want to live through Allura); Lance/Lotor; Acxa/Veronica; and Pidge/Romelle. Some of them might not actually come up at all, but they also might, so in case they do, that’s where characters are.

It’s a few days after Lance’s birthday when Keith comes home from work to find several bags of candy on his and Shiro’s kitchen counter. Over three months with hardly any sweets in the apartment and now, it looks like Shiro cleaned out Target’s candy aisle. Snickers bars and Kit Kats, Almond Joys and Mounds, individually wrapped Reese’s peanut butter cups, Dove chocolates—three varieties of them, too: dark, milk, and some special version that mixes dark chocolate with a bright green mint swirl—a bag of assorted Hershey’s miniatures, and what must be the pièce de résistance, three stand-up bags of Godiva dark chocolate hearts with chocolate ganache centers.

Keith wrinkles his nose at the collection, but at least he doesn’t need to look too far for some clues about what’s going on. While asking how Keith’s day went, Shiro slides one of his sketchbooks down the kitchen table. Humming, Hunk examines what Shiro’s passed him; he doesn’t react to the sound of crinkling plastic, or to Shiro grumbling as he tries to close the easy-open flap on a container of double-stuffed Oreos. As Keith sidles up behind him, Shiro untwists the cookie and starts licking the cream, like a kitty or a six-year-old.

“So, I guess the diet’s finally off, Babe?” Trying to fight off the feeling of _God, I hope so_, Keith drops his hands to Shiro’s shoulders. He can’t make this massage too intense, not with one of their friends over, but still, he can knead some of the tension Shiro always builds up. “I mean, unless there’s some other reason for the candy?”

“Getting started on the Halloween rush, Baby.” With a soft, unruffled smile, Shiro tilts his head back so he can get a better look at Keith. “We needed some inspiration.”

Keith frowns. “But… It’s the last day of July.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got work to do.”

“Who the Hell is putting in Halloween orders _now_?”

“Well, nobody, yet, but…” Shiro shrugs as though he’s explaining the second-easiest thing in the universe (only beaten, he would say, by his love for Keith). “People _will _put them in early—I mean, after we got so backed up last year, we’ve already been telling the folks on our mailing lists to consider ordering several weeks in advance.”

Keith nods, because he _can _see the logic in that. Yet, as Hunk asks for Shiro’s colored pencils and Shiro nudges them his way, Keith still can’t put together exactly what Shiro’s getting at, much less why he starts on a second Oreo without any apparent concern. Not that Keith’s going to _argue_ with Shiro treating himself, especially not when he’s spent the past thirteen weeks nominally dieting, denying himself any sort of junk food. It hasn’t killed his mood too badly, and Shiro hasn’t cut his calorie intake too much—but the idea of his beloved not getting things that he wants still sits badly in Keith’s chest.

In the meantime, since Shiro isn’t treating himself like garbage over his diet, Keith probably doesn’t need to worry. Not overly much, anyway. To the tune of Hunk’s usual grumbly, pensive noises, Keith fills one of his favorite oversized glasses with water. When he sits down, he drapes his legs across Shiro’s lap because that’s one of his privileges, as Shiro’s boyfriend. Shiro’s cheeks flush pink as Keith tries to get in the most comfortable position, but that’s probably fair. Even if it weren’t, Shiro’s blush is so cute that Keith wouldn’t dream of arguing with it.

Affection, Shiro doesn’t mind, especially not in front of their friends, who have long since accepted that Shiro and Keith don’t enjoy being outside each other’s personal space. But Keith’s shuffling around keeps nudging his thigh and knee into Shiro’s midsection. His stomach yields easily, letting Keith’s leg squish it around like Shiro’s hands kneading the dough for bread or a homemade pizza. Nestling close to Shiro’s side, Keith idly brushes the back of his hand down the unmistakable outward swell of Shiro’s middle.

Not that it’s a huge outward swell or anything—Shiro’s barely even pudgy, much less chubby or even outright fat—but his stomach _does_ curve out from the rest of him. If Shiro’s lost any weight on his stupid diet, then it’s probably not much. Plus, he’s slouching a bit, which always makes his stomach pooch and look ever so slightly bigger.

Keith wishes that Shiro would slouch more often, but how do you bring that up without sounding like a freak?

Shiro would argue that Keith’s flattering him by saying he isn’t really chubby—but it makes sense for Shiro to be more sensitive to changes in his own body. He started counting calories again because, right before the anniversary of him and Hunk opening their bakery, Shiro found that he’d gained a good twenty-five pounds in the past year. On a guy with his frame, though—six-foot-four and broad-shouldered, with genuinely big bones—this wasn’t lot; Keith only registered the change because he caught a glimpse of Shiro’s profile while he was wearing one of his old crop-tops.

Incidentally, he’d also been pouting at the bathroom scale, but Keith caught him at the tail-end of weighing himself. When Shiro stepped off the platform and turned around, Keith got a good look at him from the front. There was no denying: his boyfriend’s abs had melted into a slight but unmistakable tummy.

_“God, I knew I’ve put on weight lately? But I didn’t think I’d gotten up to two-thirty,” _Shiro told Keith with a sigh, even though he hadn’t asked (nor had he planned on asking). _“That’s _**_not_**_ including my prosthetic, too. So, the scale _**_actually_**_ said two-forty.”_

Fluorescent lights gleamed off the silver plating on his right arm, and Shiro’s cybernetic fingers clicked as he curled and uncurled a fist. Recognizing one of the exercises that kept his arm working, Keith waited—but as soon as Shiro finished a set, Keith wrapped both of his own hands around his boyfriend’s. Shiro’s shudder came out a few seconds later; his prosthetic’s sensory receptors are top-of-the-line tech, but sometimes, they still get delayed in forwarding signals to his brain. When Keith pressed a kiss to Shiro’s palm, his breath fogged up the plating and his chapstick left a faint imprint of his lips.

Shiro snorted fondly. _“Getting chubby doesn’t mean I don’t have to clean my arm when you do that, Baby.”_

_“No, but marking you like that is fun.” _This got a blush out of Shiro, and Keith smiled. _“Anyway, who the fuck said you were chubby?”_

_“Uh, the scale, I guess? Like I just told you? Nobody else has really _**_said_**_…”_ He trailed off, face slipping into a contemplative expression, but after a few moments, Shiro huffed. _“Oh, no, I take that back. Last month, when we went home for Obaasan’s birthday? Mom said she was happy to see that my sweet young man takes such good care of me—but at first, I thought she just meant that I was happy and smiling and all of that.”_

_“Who knows? Maybe she did.”_

_“Maybe, but comments like that wouldn’t be mutually exclusive with pointing out that I’m… starting to get a belly.”_

_“That… is probably true, yeah. So… fair point, Pretty Boy.” _Snickering, Shiro kissed Keith’s temple—but Keith didn’t let that distract him from saying, _“For what it’s worth, you don’t _**_look_**_ chubby in any of the pictures from that weekend. Or any of your selfies recently. Hell, I sleep with you every night and this is the first I’ve noticed anything.”_

Then again, in a lot of the photos from his Grandmother’s birthday, Shiro has the advantage of standing next to Ryou and their Dad. Although Shiro stands taller than both his twin and their father, both of them weigh more than he does. Ryou, in particular, makes most people look skinny by comparison. Offhand, Keith can only name one person who that rule doesn’t apply to, and that’s only true because Hunk and Ryou are about the same size.

_“Well, whether you’ve noticed or not,” _Shiro muttered, _“I clearly need to go on a diet. I mean… Come on, right?”_

Keith could’ve asked what Shiro meant by that. Instead, he slipped one of his hands off of Shiro’s prosthetic. Innocently, so cool that ice cream wouldn’t have melted in his mouth, Keith splayed his hand out on Shiro’s tummy and gave his boy a gentle squeeze.

Shiro squeaked, flushing scarlet. _“Baby!”_

_“I don’t care if you gain weight, Shiro. I don’t care if you lose it, either, or if you, like? Stay about the same weight but work on toning up, or whatever.” _Eye-contact never comes easily to Keith, but he looked Shiro dead-on while making him this promise. _“You can have abs, or squish, or a bigger belly than your brother. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”_

Shiro gasped softly and gave Keith a dewy smile. _“Have I told you lately how lucky I am to have you, Moonbeam?”_

_“Every morning, first thing when you wake up—but that doesn’t mean you should stop.”_ Keith smirked. _“Affection is gross and weird; please keep drowning me in it.”_

Fortunately, Shiro almost never argues when Keith wants affection, so he got to have his way about that.

Double fortunately, Shiro didn’t need to worry himself into too much of a tizzy. After all, he could still button all his jeans and mostly fit into his favorite suit for Black And Gold’s birthday party. But he did have a point that the extra twenty-five pounds were not _exactly_ nothing. He hadn’t even gone a little soft in the middle after the accident that took his arm, so gaining actual pudge, even such a slight amount, was a big deal for him.

That he apparently hasn’t lost any of that pudge probably also strikes him as a big deal—but it doesn’t stop Shiro from reaching for the Oreos again. Keith can’t help smiling over that. Such a simple thing, but it means the world to him for Shiro to let himself enjoy some foods that definitely were not in his diet when he and Keith first met.

Resting his head against Shiro’s chest, Keith leaves his hand around Shiro’s middle, all so he can appreciate the positive physical effects of said indulgences. Hunk and Shiro bandy some ideas for Halloween specials back and forth, and they’re probably coming up with fun ideas, but Keith pays more attention to how Shiro’s tum gives way beneath his knuckles. He didn’t lie, three months ago; he loved Shiro just as much with eight-pack abs, and he won’t stop loving his idiot if Shiro ever gets them back. Until Shiro loses any weight or trims the extra inches off of his waistline, though, Keith plans to enjoy the extra softness that Shiro’s weight gain has provided.

Doesn’t hurt that Shiro’s cheeks flush pink when Keith presses into his tummy-pudge… Or that his eyes dart around the kitchen guiltily while Keith rubs a spot where his stomach feels a bit harder than usual, whether that’s tension from hitting the gym earlier or the aftermath of a too-big lunch… _Or_ that he barely chokes down a shudder and a squeal as Keith nudges his shirt out of the way and cops a feel of the soft rolls that have settled so comfortably on Shiro’s waistline.

Yeah, Shiro tries to hiss, “Don’t be a brat, Baby” at him—but he still quivers and lets slip a warm, contented sigh when Keith kneads his knuckles ever so delicately into Shiro’s chub.

“Shrinking our Kit Kat cake like this won’t be easy,” Hunk muses, scribbling some notes. When he glances up, he shoots Keith a _Pointed Look_, all pursed lips and dull, unimpressed eyes. No doubt, Hunk’s got his boxers twisted because no, actually, Keith _can’t_ keep his hands off Shiro, even while he and Hunk are working—but Hunk lets it go with only a roll of his eyes and a quick shake of his head. “I mean, aside from how much it _sucks_ to make layered cupcakes? I’m not sure we can pull it off without making the crunch layers too crispy.”

“Probably not, no. I’m just passing it on that Adam would appreciate it if we tried.”

“Your brother’s fiancé _seriously_ doesn’t appreciate how difficult perfecting these recipes is, does he.”

“Not really, but he’s no worse than _most_ people who don’t bake. Or who only casually bake, like for their high school fundraisers or whatever.” Indulgently, Shiro curls his prosthetic arm around Keith’s shoulders and tilts his head down to kiss Keith’s forehead. “I mean, even if we can’t make _cupcakes_ work, we could try selling smaller slices of the Kit Kat cake at the shop, rather than making people order a whole one?”

Hunk hums, taps a mechanical pencil against his mouth like he’s genuinely considering that idea. “We might need to talk to Ryou… See if the finances would check out and everything. Given how intense the Kit Kat cake is, we might not be able to work out a price anyone will actually pay for it that allows us to break even.”

“As long as we give it a try, we’ll have done our part,” Shiro agrees. On some level, he must be magic; that’s the only reasonable way to explain how he doesn’t flinch and his voice doesn’t quiver as Keith jostles his tummy.

Rather than react to that, Shiro reaches for the Oreos again. He sets five of them down in front of him.

As Shiro blissfully enjoys a cookie, Keith lifts his head to peer at the container. An entire row-and-a-half of the Oreos has already disappeared, and only one sits over by Hunk. If Shiro hasn’t noticed this yet, then he probably will in due time. Hoping to keep Shiro from feeling too awkward or down on himself, Keith claims three Oreos for himself. Even if he only gets one of them down, he might help Shiro by eating with him, so he doesn’t feel alone or start judging himself for liking food.

Keith ends up finishing his three Oreos and going back to the container for another—but he and Shiro haven’t had them around in far too long. No one could blame Keith for letting himself indulge a little.

By the time Hunk heads home to James and Ryan, the Oreos have disappeared. Notably, this didn’t stop Shiro from treating himself or drag him back into line with his diet. Once again, he cited the need for inspiration—for some delicious help in designing his and Hunk’s recipes—but even if Shiro hadn’t tried to play this evening’s excess off as crucial to his work, Keith would’ve gotten candy off the counter for him anyway. Nothing should ever stop his boyfriend from enjoying himself, if that’s what Shiro wants.

For all Shiro seems to have enjoyed this round of junk food, he cringes as Keith scoops up the heap of empty wrappers he’s amassed. “Jesus,” he sighs, dropping his prosthetic hand down to his stomach. “First day off the diet, and I’m already on-track to _balloon_ before this break is over.”

“You’ve barely had any sweets in _months_. It makes sense that you went a little overboard.”

“If the candy doesn’t give me cavities, Baby, you definitely will.” Shiro snorts at his own joke, which makes Keith snicker with him. Prying himself out of his seat, he lifts his arms and stretches out his back. “You’re too sweet, is what I’m saying. Especially since there’s less and less about me that you could justify calling ‘little.’”

As if trying to help Shiro make his point, his t-shirt doesn’t slip back into place when he drops his arms. Working out some of his tension tugged the fabric up his stomach, and now, the hem refuses to budge, leaving some of his pale tawny chub exposed. This shirt fit Shiro perfectly fine, back around his and Ryou’s birthday. Even when Shiro started his diet, Keith doesn’t think the fabric wrinkled around his boyfriend’s midsection quite as much as it’s doing now. Granted, when Shiro leans against the counter beside him, Keith finds the thickest part of Shiro’s stomach harder to the touch than normal. Maybe his shirt’s only misbehaving because of how much Shiro ate.

“I probably wouldn’t have eaten like I did just now if not for you.” In the face of Keith blushing, Shiro gives him a soft, adoring smile. “If not for you having my back and loving me like you do, I mean. Because, uh? The diet… has kinda backfired, as it turns out?”

“_Really_?” Keith almost flinches. Silently curses the note of eagerness that slipped into his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—not that I’m doubting you, or passing judgment, or anything? It’s just, y’know…” He quirks his shoulders, splays his hand out on Shiro’s stomach again. “It doesn’t really _look_ like you’ve gained more weight?”

It still doesn’t look like he’s _lost_ any, either, despite still regularly hitting the gym—but Keith’s not going to outright _say_ that. He could too easily hurt his boyfriend’s feelings by confirming anything too decisively, and hurting Shiro is the last thing that Keith ever wants to do. No matter how much he wishes Shiro would keep the extra weight, nothing is worth Shiro’s pain, not even the thought of him getting softer and plumping up.

“Maybe I don’t _look_ heavier, but you can probably _feel_ it when you touch me, right?” Maneuvering around Keith’s fingers, Shiro pokes his tummy. When he removes his finger, his chub bounces back into place, defiantly curving out from Shiro’s middle. “No sweets in the apartment for three months and change. No soda—not even diet—and definitely no alcohol. Working out three or four times a week, not including any sex we’ve had—and I’ve still put on almost ten pounds from where I started. Not _all_ the way there, but…”

With a rueful smile, Shiro admits, “Scale says I’m up to two-thirty-eight, as of this morning. Two-thirty-eight-and-a-half, technically.” He rests his organic hand on the swell of his stomach, letting his fingers slide into the spaces between Keith’s. “Probably _more_, after how I’ve eaten today. If that keeps up, I’ll get big as a house by Christmas.”

Keith’s mouth goes dry, hearing Shiro talk like this. All he can think of to say is, “……Oh.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Shiro’s huff sounds so much like a chuckle. “Still feel open-minded about your boyfriend getting chubby, Baby? Because I’ll understand if you’ve changed your mind, I promise. No hard feelings if you want me to knuckle down and get my abs back.”

For all he wants to say something poignant and emotional—something beautiful and moving about how Shiro makes him happy, and Shiro never needs to change for Keith, and he’s irrevocably in love with Shiro, no matter what he weighs—Keith can’t come up with any words. Even if he didn’t have a blank space where his brain should go, Keith probably couldn’t get his mouth and tongue to cooperate about saying anything. In lieu of that, he answers Shiro by slithering up against his front and yanking him down into a kiss.

In case Shiro has any lingering doubts, Keith grinds his slim, flat stomach against Shiro’s pudge, and digs his fingertips into one of the love-handles blossoming on Shiro’s side.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Personal reactions/interpretations
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Comments made with the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta).
> 
> The author reads and appreciates all comments, and gets back to all of them eventually, but may be slow to reply due to trying to rein in the ADHD/anxiety cocktail.
> 
> If, for any reason, you don’t want to receive a reply, just put, “whisper” near the start of your comment, and I’ll appreciate it without replying.
> 
> * * *
> 
> As ever, I’m also on Discord (**amorremanet#5500**), Twitter (**[amorremanet](https://twitter.com/amorremanet/)**), Tumblr (**[amorremanet](http://amorremanet.tumblr.com/)**, though not quite as often anymore), Pillowfort (**[amorremanet](https://www.pillowfort.io/amorremanet)**), and it’s pretty much all Gay Shit, all the time.


End file.
